Spellbound is hardly a critical darling of the Hitchcock canon. It’s ambitious but ultimately disappointing, burdened with unrealized potential yet boasting just enough directorial bravado to make it worth watching.

The Criterion Collection’s release of Spellbound, on the other hand, is something of a critical darling. Now out of print (Criterion’s rights to the release lapsed shortly after their sought-after Wrong Men And Notorious Women set was released), it’s one of three Alfred Hitchcock DVDs that collectors really, really want to get their hands on (the other two being Rebecca and Notorious). Sure, the fact that it’s part of the prestigious Criterion Collection certainly helps.

It also helps that it’s a superb release.

Of course, it’s a superb release of a coulda, shoulda, woulda been superb (but isn’t) film.

If directing Rebecca under the watchful eyes and meddling control of David O. Selznick was an unpleasant task for Hitch, Selznick’s personal connection to the film’s subject matter – he himself had undergone psychotherapy, a major part of this film’s hook – could only mean Spellbound would be worse.

And it was. Selznick forced his own therapist into the production as a technical advisor. He was strongly against the Salvador Dali-designed dream sequences Hitchcock so badly wanted in the film. He even cut footage – some 14 minutes or more – from Hitchcock’s final product. As with Rebecca, Spellbound is as much a David O. Selznick film as it is an Alfred Hitchcock film.

While he couldn’t suppress entirely Sir Alfred’s astonishing creativity during this, his early American period, Spellbound is saddled with too much Selznick baggage to be anything other than a fascinating experiment that ultimately fails to entertain despite its innovations. For a mainstream film featuring major stars, it’s full of bold cinematic techniques and daring experimentation. But it’s also too unfocused, like it doesn’t quite know what kind of film it wants to be.

It may be best to look at Spellbound as individual parts rather than as a whole, because the parts themselves are really quite good. The film is positively loaded with evocative imagery and creative tricks of the camera, even beyond the rightly famous Dali dream sequences. The way Hitchcock filmed light streaming from underneath a doorway, or a simply picnic, or a series of hallucinogenic doors swinging open, is as visually compelling as anything in the Hitchcock canon. When we see the fearful way he frame’s Peck’s strange late night visit with Dr. Alex Brulov (Michael Chekhov), shot from a low angle, a razor blade sliding in and out of the frame we can’t help but be impressed with how well Hitch can play the audience. Even the score is at least as strong as anything to this point in his career, striking the right tone throughout.

And yet it doesn’t quite manage to come together, which is really too bad, as there was a lot of potential here.

This release, though, lives up to its potential.

Disc Presentation
With few exceptions, it’s difficult to complain about the quality of a Criterion release. This film may have been released in 1945, but here, it is as visually luxurious as it must have been on the day of release. The transfer and restoration is just wonderful; crisp, clear lines, deep shadows and fine detail are all on display. Few transfers from Alfred Hitchcock’s black and white period look better than this. The audio fares even better. The soundtrack is not only restored to robust form, the theater entrance and exit music and title cards have been inserted at the start and finish of the film. Fantastic! It’s the little things like that which help Criterion stand out from the crowd, giving the viewer a richer, more complete experience.

Disc Extras
Again, Spellbound shines in this department. For Hitchcock aficionados, the Criterion release of Spellbound is sure to please with its bounty of extras – if you can find it on eBay.

First we have an audio commentary by Hitchcock scholar Marian Keane. A touch dry, as Criterion’s more scholarly commentaries are prone to, but as densely informative as you’re likely to find. Keane fills in the viewer on Hitchcock history, his relationship with David O. Selznick, the legendary Dali sequences, and much, much more. Highly informative and well worth listening to.

Next up is an illustrated essay on the Dali dream sequences. While text-heavy pieces can be a bit boring, this is anything but. Those sequences – a big pet want of Hitchcock’s – are the stuff of film legend. Rife with bizarre symbolism, it’s a bit astonishing they made it into a mainstream film. This feature offers a detailed look at their creation, alternate visions, and portions of the sequence ultimately cut from the film. Fascinating stuff.

The excerpts from a 1973 interview with composer Miklos Rozsa is audio only and is likely to be listened to once, at best, but the 1948 Lux Radio Theater adaptation (starring Joseph Cotton, no less) is a great time capsule that is sure to please fans of radio theater.

Next up is a public radio piece on the theremin – the Criterion folks like this offbeat archival stuff – and two solid essays on Alfred Hitchcock.

Rounding out the disc are a treasure trove of archival photos and documents spanning the entire production and release (lots of great stuff here) and the original trailer (also fantastic – they don’t make trailers like they used to).

As you can see, this disc is packed with good stuff that goes far beyond the usual fluff.

The Bottom Line
Simply put, Spellbound may not be among Alfred Hitchcock’s best films, but there is enough here of artistic and historical interest to make it worth tracking down on the secondary market … because sadly, the Criterion Collection release of Spellbound is out of print. Which is too bad, because it’s as good a Hitchcock DVD release as you’ll find.